


Sun

by Newtgitsune



Series: Universes [2]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Breaking down, Fire, M/M, Role Reversal, The Death Cure, The sun - Freeform, chuck's figurine, im sorry once again, like serious angst oh my god, newt is immune, the boat, thomas is infected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 04:27:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14709084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newtgitsune/pseuds/Newtgitsune
Summary: And no matter how much Newt loved the stars, no star could ever replace the sun.Alternative title: Same Disease, Another Victim





	Sun

Thomas was acting up.

It were the little things Newt noticed. Thomas was a restless, talkative person. If he wasn’t talking everyone’s heads off, he was moving, always moving, twiddling his fingers or bouncing his leg up and down. Sure, it was irritating, and Newt had told him countless times to knock it off, and Thomas would never listen, which would only annoy Newt further.

Apparently, a still, silent Thomas was even worse.

 

At first, Newt had let it go. Everyone had been acting differently. Newt was more snappy. Frypan cracked less jokes than he did back in the Glade. Brenda had traded in witty remarks for eyerolls. They were all worried. Confused. Lost.

With Thomas, however, it was different.

 

After Minho had been taken by WICKED, Thomas had seemed even more feisty. Seeing his friend getting taken had broken the dam holding all his fire inside, and now it was flooding them. Thomas was everywhere at once, making plans, checking the maps, collecting supplies, turning the group into an army.

 

Until one day, the fire died out.

 

Newt didn’t know why. Nothing particularly bad had happened after the attack on the Right Arm. Sure, they’d had setbacks. Big ones. The failed attempt at retrieving Minho from the train had been a painful slap in the face for them all, but it wasn’t what had silenced Thomas. Something else had happened, and Newt had no clue what it was.

 

He despised it. Thomas had always been honest with him. He’d always told Newt everything- his hopes and dreams, his fears and nightmares. Except for this. Whenever Newt asked what was wrong, he got confused looks, dazed eyes, and was waved off with a mumbled “I’m fine,” and Newt was sick of it.

 

Tonight, Thomas had disappeared once again. Had walked off in a sullen silence, shoulders slumped, head down, and it was the _last goddamn straw._

Newt followed him into the small building Thomas snuck into, his figure sliding into the shadows like it belonged there. Rage sparked inside him at the thought- Thomas shouldn’t be in the shadows. He was a fucking _sun,_ he needed to shine, and now he _wasn’t_ and it pissed Newt off.

He slammed the door shut, locking them inside the cabin, and he stared at Thomas who had whipped around at the noise. “Alright, what’s up with you?”

Thomas frowned. “Newt, I don’t..”

“No. Don’t deny it.” Newt cut him off, stepping closer, away from the door, into the moonlight shining into the hut. “Something’s off. You’re quiet, you’ve stopped moving as much. You’ve given up.”

“I haven-“

“You’re not _you.”_ Newt stared into Thomas’s eyes, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he was unable to decipher Thomas’s expression. “What’s goin’ on?”

Thomas glanced down at his feet, then snapped his head back up. “Newt, I can’t.. Nothing’s wrong, okay? I’m worried about Minho, that’s all.”

“Bullshit.”

Thomas’s open mouth clamped shut and he glared back at Newt, a fire in his eyes, but not the fire Newt wanted, liked, _loved._ This was different. Cold flames dancing in his amber irises, icy anger directed at _him._

“Why are you here?” he asked, in a strangely calm voice, although Newt could hear it quivering. Newt blinked. “What?”

“Why are you here?” Thomas repeated, stepping closer to Newt, and he could feel his hot breath on his face. “What’s the matter with you? Can’t you just leave me alone for _once?_ ” his voice rose with every word, redness creeping up his neck, only slightly visible in the pale moonlight. “Do you think I owe you something? Hm? I _don’t,_ Newt. I don’t need you, I don’t need to tell you anything. The only thing I need is for you to _get the hell out of here.”_

Newt stared at Thomas, every word feeling like a stab directly to his heart. “No.” he whispered, and Thomas glared at him, the flames growing into a full-on firestorm, chilling Newt to his bones.

 

And then it was gone.

 

Gone were the freezing flames, the heated coldness. Now there was nothing. A pathetic emptiness in those misted eyes, storm clouds covering up the sun. _His_ sun.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas choked out, stumbling back, and Newt stepped forward, seizing his wrist, keeping him still.

 

Thomas flinched.

 

“Let go,” he whispered, eyes set on Newt’s hand. Newt shook his head. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

Thomas ripped his arm out of Newt’s hand in a sudden movement, the strength surprising Newt.

 

Thomas took a deep, shuddering breath, and he shrugged off his jacket. Newt only now realised that he hadn’t seen him without his jacket on in a _long_ time.

 

The garment fell to the ground, showing Thomas’s tanned arms, and Newt’s heart stopped.

 

Thomas turned around and peeled off his shirt, letting it drop to the ground, the paler skin on his back standing out against the darkness of the room they were in.

 

“It’s spreading,” Thomas whispered, and the room seemed to grow cold, the sight pulling the air from Newt’s lungs, leaving him with trembling legs and teary eyes.

 

His entire world was crumbling more and more with every blackened vein he saw stretching along Thomas’s back, creeping up to his neck along his spine, splitting up into smaller, thinner veins like a tree’s roots, ingraining itself in Thomas’s skin, flesh, being.  
  
Newt stumbled back, his breath coming in short, deep rasps, and Thomas turned back, any hope he had left in his eyes being visibly burned out. Newt felt like a fist was clenched around his throat, making it hard to breathe, and he forced himself to step forward, first one foot, then the other, and he threw his arms around Thomas, pulling him close, clinging onto him like his life depended on it.  
  
Because it did.  
  
Thomas was right- He didn’t owe Newt anything. But Newt couldn’t say the same for himself. He owed him _everything._ His hope, his freedom, his life. Thomas was the light guiding him through the darkness, his sun. When Thomas came up in the box, it was the most beautiful sunrise he’d ever seen, chasing away the night he’d lived in up until that moment. Without Thomas, he’d still be stuck in the Maze, under the manmade heaven with its phony sun. Turned out, Thomas was a more genuine sun than the one Newt had lived under for years.

And no matter how much Newt loved the stars, no star could ever replace the sun.

 

  
He couldn’t have his sun go out just yet.

  
  
“Tommy, we’re gonna be okay,” he mumbled, the words tumbling out of his mouth in an incoherent mess. “We’re gonna get you a cure, yeah? You’re gonna be alright.”  
his hand raked through Thomas’s soft hair, and he felt the boy crumble in his hands. Strong arms wrapped around him, a face pressing into his neck. His body shook with unreleased sobs, and Newt shut his eyes, tightening his grip. “We’re gonna be okay.”

 

They would be okay.

 

They _had to be._

  
  
“Newt, I don’t wanna go,” Thomas choked out, the words coming out muffled, and Newt felt a wetness dropping down onto his collarbone. He was trembling against him, holding on tight, Thomas’s nails digging into his back through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Newt replied softly, pulling back and taking Thomas’s face in his hands, looking into his eyes. He ran his thumb along Thomas’s cheekbone, wiping away a stray tear. “We’re going to find Minho, alright? That’s gonna be where WICKED is. They must have something. They can’t have been doing all of this without a result. We’re going to get you something. Anything. No matter what the cost. Okay?”

Thomas stared back at him, and Newt nearly broke down there and then, tears stinging his eyes, threatening to spill out at any moment.

“Okay.”

It was soft, more felt than heard, but it was _there._ A slight nod, a whispered word, Thomas’s arm on his wrist, squeezing it ever so slightly.  
“Okay.” Newt repeated. Thomas nodded again, and Newt suddenly saw how tired he was. There were prominent dark circles under his eyes, and Thomas seemed to be swaying on his feet- Newt wasn’t sure if he actually was or if he was shaking himself.

“Go get some sleep, yeah?” he whispered, guiding Thomas towards the thin mattress in the corner of the hut. Thomas stumbled along, onto the mattress, slowly, reluctantly releasing his grip on Newt- all but his hand, which stayed on Newt’s wrist, his eyes glued to Newt’s face.

“Newt?”

Newt wanted to turn away, but Thomas stopped him, pressing his thumb against the inside of his wrist. “Stay with me?”

Newt hesitated, but Thomas’s warm, hopeful eyes pulled him in, and he crouched down, sliding down onto the mattress beside Thomas, his side pressing against the other’s. Thomas curled into him, and Newt carefully wrapped his arm around his midsection, feeling Thomas relax under his touch. He looked down at him, his nose brushing Thomas’s hair, and he breathed in deeply, his muscles releasing a little of the tension they’d been holding.

 

They were okay.

  
  
They would be.  
  
***

Newt looked out over the sea, breathing in the fresh air. The sun beamed down on him, heating his pale skin, burning into his retinas. It didn’t matter how hot its rays were. He could have been cooking by now, and it wouldn’t matter, at all. His heart would never warm up again.

  
He should’ve been standing here, next to him. Smiling. They should have made it together. Newt could almost _hear_ his laugh ringing in his ears, could almost feel his presence, warmer, brighter than the sun above. Newt glanced up, looking right into it, his eyes forcing themselves shut to block out the painful light.

 

This sun could never compare. Could never equal his own sun.

 

Newt had been thrust back into his night, darkness surrounding him, blinding him, choking him. He was lost. He’d found his hope, his freedom, his life, only to have it ripped away from him again. He’d learned to love the light, to follow it wherever it went, and now it had been dimmed, and Newt was left wandering on his own, with nothing to guide him. Nowhere to go.  
  
Newt leaned over the railing and hung his head low, a tear slipping out of his eye and falling down, joining the water beneath him. He opened his eyes, staring down at the sea, his vision blurry, seeing nothing but blue. It could have been pretty, beautiful, but to Newt, nothing was beautiful anymore.

  
  
He wished he could’ve been in his place.

 

Newt could see the Safe Haven in the distance, and he wished he couldn’t. Wished it was him standing here instead of himself.

  
  
He reached into his pocket, pulling out the contents. He twisted it around in his hands, running his fingers along the roughly carved edges, chewing on his bottom lip as he saw the red spots that stained the wooden figurine.

  
  
_“Get this to the Safe Haven, yeah? I want you to remember him. Keep his memory alive. He should’ve been there.”_  
“Tommy, I can’t..”  
“Take it, Newt.”  
“No, you have to get it there yourself, you-“  
“TAKE IT!”  
  
Newt choked back a sob. Chuck should’ve been here with him, too. He should’ve been standing there, with them, holding the figurine, taking it with _him._

Then it was given to him with a promise to find Chuck’s parents. He had failed, hadn’t found them. It had gained another meaning- it was a memory, a memory of the Glade, of the Maze. Not only of Chuck, but of Alby, Winston, Zart, Jeff, Ben.

  
  
And now it was a memory of him, too.

  
  
Newt’s hands trembled as they held the figurine, his ears blocking out the call of the seagulls following the ship, his head filled with the sound of his voice, going through every conversation they’d ever had. His heart ached, shards of ice being rammed through it with every word he remembered.  
  
He’d failed him.  
  
A sudden silence- the constant hum of the ship’s engine was cut off, and a shock pulled through the ship, before it was quickly started up again, but it was enough to unbalance Newt. He shifted his weight in an attempt to keep himself from falling, a sharp pain flaring up in his leg as he did so. He let out a quiet yelp as his leg buckled beneath him, and he grasped at the railing in front of him to steady himself. In his attempt to do so, the figurine slipped from his fingers, down onto the deck before rolling away through the space in between the bars of the railing, plummeting down towards the water.

Newt’s hand shot forward, his fingers grazing the wood, and he clenched his hand into a fist.

  
  
He held only air.

  
  
Newt watched the figurine tumble down with wide eyes, a soft _no_ falling from his lips as it disappeared into the waves beneath him.

“No, no, no..”  
  
Newt’s heart raced, tears streaming down his face, his knees giving out under him, hitting the metal floor of the ship with a dull _clank._ His hands grasped at the bars of the boat’s railing, his knuckles turning white.

His leg. His _fucking leg_ had made him stumble, had made him try to steady himself, had made the figurine fall. After all these years, his attempt, his mistake was still plaguing him, haunting him, punishing him for what he’d done. And now he’d lost this.

  
  
He’d lost him.

  
  
He’d lost it all.

  
  
He looked up at the sky, the sun shining directly in his face, mocking him. The brightness hurt, burned, but it was nothing compared to the grief ripping his insides apart, its claws tearing at his heart, searing it, the heat blazing, the pain unbearable.

 

Never again would he stand in the light of the sun. _His_ sun.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in one day lmao I was so motivated for some reason
> 
> So, first of all, MASSIVE thanks to my friend Dreams for helping me! She's given me multiple great sentences ("Turned out, Thomas was a more genuine sun than the one Newt had lived under for years." still not over that) and helped me with the plot overall. Dreams, thank you so much!! You're the best <3
> 
> Also- thanks to Mak/Hazel for giving me this prompt! Love you <3
> 
> okay notes here we GO
> 
> So, the theme for this one-shot is the sun/fire. Thomas is a very warm, feisty person, so I felt like that would fit him well. And here we are.
> 
> I'm not good at writing Angry Thomas it fucks me up  
> Sad Thomas, and Sad Newt, however....
> 
> Have Newt having an existential fuckin crisis and an angsty Newtmas cuddle. You're welcome.
> 
> And suddenly, Newt's at sea. On his own. Whoops.  
> From this moment on, I haven't written Thomas's name. I imagine Newt being in too much pain to actually be able to say his name, to think about him properly. It's kind of distant- that's the only way he knows how to deal with it.
> 
> Chuck's figurine is kind of a replacement for Newt's letter, only it has multiple meanings. And then it's gone. Because apparently I like to hurt Newt. Oops
> 
> A little nod to his leg still fucking everything up, because im a dick (also this is Dreams's fault, blame her <3)
> 
> And even though he's in the sunlight, he would never feel the sun, his sun, again. The sun he loves, the real sun after he's lived under a fake one for years, one that comforts instead of burns. It's all gone. Sorry, Newt. Love you.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Kudos, comments and critisism are always appreciated! Stay tuned for the next part (no idea when it'll come out but you bet your ass it'll be angsty as shit)
> 
> <3


End file.
